


down to you

by megyal



Category: Live Free or Die Hard (2007)
Genre: Arguing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-16
Updated: 2008-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 21:51:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>From this meme: <i>Make a post inviting people to request drabbles in the fandoms you write; any number of commenters you can handle. But the catch is, once someone makes a request, they also have to post the meme, and drabble it forward.</i>. This had been the one for the LFDH fandom.</p><p>Prompt from atlantisgrrrl@LJ: Die Hard 4: John/Matt: slow and leisurly cocksucking, if you would.</p>
    </blockquote>





	down to you

**Author's Note:**

> From this meme: _Make a post inviting people to request drabbles in the fandoms you write; any number of commenters you can handle. But the catch is, once someone makes a request, they also have to post the meme, and drabble it forward._. This had been the one for the LFDH fandom.
> 
> Prompt from atlantisgrrrl@LJ: Die Hard 4: John/Matt: slow and leisurly cocksucking, if you would.

Matt was, to put it succinctly, fucking _pissed_.

Pissed to the point of screaming, _that's_ how pissed.

Pissed didn't even quite cover how he felt, honestly. If 'pissed' was a bridge, he'd be like... like the fucking Golden Gate. His whole day had been just one fucked up event after the other, from a stubborn firewall to some jackass in Prague who had thought it funny to fuck with Matt's security network, placing holes in it with distressing speed and Matt had to be scrambling to plug them.

And then, when he had arrived home, hoping for a little TLC and maybe a commiserating ear, McClane had lashed out on him over some minor shit and shouting was involved, until Matt had flung a random keyboard at his stupid bald head, told him to fuck off and had stomped off to his bedroom.

McClane had threatened to rip his asshole through his eyeballs.

Before slamming his door, Matt had yelled, "That's if you ever get near this ass again!"

The surprised tilt of McClane's eyebrows was _totally_ worth it.

*

So, he was currently lying in his bed, the lamp lit on the bedside table as he grumpily kicked at his sheets and muttered curses ever so often; but because Matt was the kind of person who didn't stay pissed for too long, at least, not on the inside where it counted, he sighed and kind of let all go.

Didn't make any sense in the long run, anyway.

There was a brisk knock on his door and McClane pushed it open before Matt could say if he could come in or not. He entered and closed the door behind him, leaning on it with his arms folded. Matt rolled his eyes; he had a theory that McClane only folded his arms to show off his muscles. He was in a grey t-shirt and a loose pair of sweatpants, the usual McClane night-wear. Before he slipped into bed, he'd probably pull off the t-shirt... as he was doing _right now_ , and going to the other side of Matt's bed, yanking up the covers and settling in like he owned the place.

Well. Technically he did, but Matt helped pay bills and groceries, so there.

"Done being a fuckhead yet, kid?" McClane placed his hands behind his head and settled in even more.

"I dunno, have _you_?" Matt shot back, and narrowed his eyes when McClane turned and frowned at him.

"I'm not the one who came home with a stick up my ass today," McClane told him, eyes glittering dangerously.

"Yeah, once a week is enough for me, all the other days, you get custody of the stick," Matt said impishly and McClane looked as if he couldn't decide to throttle Matt or just laugh.

"So, are you _done_?"

Matt really was done, but he pouted at McClane just the same. "No. No, I'm not done. I've had a fucking bad day, and when I come home to get some McClane loving, all I have is you shouting in my face that I finished all the milk. Who gives a shit about the milk?"

" _I_ do," McClane pointed out, but Matt was on a roll.

"It's just milk, man, come on. There's like a bodega one block away, how hard would it be for you to say, 'Farrell, we're out of milk, go get some.' Instead, you have a freaking _meltdown_ and you made me cry."

McClane chuckled, seemingly against his will. "Matt. You didn't cry."

"I did! On the inside. Real inside tears of _sadness_."

"I'll have to make it up to you," McClane rumbled and sat up, his eyes fixed on Matt's. He pulled down the sheets slowly and Matt simply looked at him. "Don't look so suspicious."

"When John McClane promises to 'make it up to you', you kind of have to be careful." 

John smirked at him, crawling over his body with an unassuming kind of grace, pushing Matt's legs apart to kneel between them. He loomed over Matt, who felt every bit the scrawny hacker as he raised his arms to put them around John's neck, pulling him down for a kiss. 

He arched up as John's weight pressed down into him; he loved this feeling, John's body a solid secure pressure, so he actually made a sound of complaint when John ended their kiss and began to move back.

"Hey," he said as he went up on his elbows. "Hey, come back."

John slid back even more, pushing up the hem of Matt's t-shirt and starting to peel down the waistband of his boxers.

"Or, or, you know, you can stay down there. Carry on what you're gonna do, I'm totally not even going to _think_ about stopping you," Matt said quickly. "Just, whatever technique you've developed on your way down there, I'm all for it. On the bandwagon. All engines are primed--"

"Shut up," John told him fondly as he coaxed Matt into lifting his hips... not that Matt needed any coaxing, he kicked his way so hard out of those boxers, he nearly gave John a black eye. John raised his eyebrows as he tossed the boxers away, and then looked down at him measuringly.

Matt flushed and glanced away. What the hell John was staring at, was beyond him. He jumped as John's tongue flicked over his bellybutton, and stared back down at John, who was gazing up at him... and his lips were _so close_ to Matt's cock, just a little more...

"Good. Now that I have your undivided attention," John murmured and sucked the tip of Matt's straining cock into his mouth.

"Oh god," Matt breathed, not wanting to even move too much in case John changed his mind. John had been pretty wary about this at first, and Matt had reigned in all his impatient nature to not push him at all.

Oh man, it was totally worth it.

John was going carefully, not sliding down the whole shaft, but making up for that by pulling off and flicking his tongue along the hot length. Matt tilted his hips a little, but John placed a forearm across his lower stomach, holding him down. Matt keened and arched as John's fingers cupped his balls, rolling them gently.

He felt his skin grow warm as John's mouth worked over his dick, sucking and licking. He gathered up handfuls of the covers, because all he'd be grabbing at McClane's head and John _hated_ that. He could feel the sweat gathering over his top lip, on his sides, trickling down past his ribs as he gasped and groaned.

John mouth was _illegal_ , Matt thought a little hysterically. Thing is, it didn't _look_ illegal, it looked like a pretty normal mouth, sometimes pulled into a grim line or a dry smile. He turned his head to one side, surprised when one of McClane's hands reached up and grasped one of his. Matt's hips jerked and he squeezed McClane's fingers as he came.

"Oh fuck," he moaned weakly as John crawled up his body. "You. That's totally made up. The slate, it's wiped clean."

"Good to know," John murmured and then settled on top of Matt again, his cock hard against Matt's thigh. Matt shivered at the feeling, wriggling against his erection. "But next time," John said into his ear, licking the lobe. "Buy back my fucking milk. Or I won't go down on you again."

"Oh man, I won't! Promise!" Matt literally yelled. "Fuck you," he grumbled as John laughed, right in his ear, but he was smiling and wriggling all the same.

_fin_


End file.
